Precious Bones (18 page)

“Well, it is our Christmas money, and it ain’t gonna be much of a Christmas without Mr. Nolay back home.”

“Christmas! Do you think Nolay will be gone that long?”

“I sure hope not. I want ’im to be home tomorrow. But anyways, you take this and give it to your mama.”

I swallowed down a small lump rising in my throat. “Thanks, Little Man.”

Under Chicken Charlie’s basket of double-yolked eggs were six shiny quarters. Five ten-dollar bills held together with a paper clip tumbled out with the lima beans.

That afternoon Ironhead came driving up. Mama went out and motioned for him to come inside. He came in the kitchen and placed a newspaper-covered package on the table. “Caught it early this morning. It’s a big fat mullet. Thought you might enjoy some fresh fish.”

“We sure will, thank you.”

Ironhead sat down at the table and ran his hands through his fiery red hair.

“I tell you what; it felt like someone done stomped on my heart to see Nolay in there. But don’t you worry none, Miss Lori; he’ll be home soon enough. I’m sure of it.”

After he left, Mama unwrapped the package. Laying
beside the fish, all neat and tidy in a piece of waxed paper, was thirty dollars.

Wednesday morning Mama dropped me off at Little Man’s. Nearly the whole day was spent preparing the turkey and all the fixings that went with it. By the time Mama came back, the table was fixed and Miss Melba had that turkey on the countertop to cool off.

Mr. Cotton placed it in the middle of the table, right under the single hanging lightbulb. He stood back and said, “This here is like having Thanksgiving in September. Let’s gather around and give thanks.”

We stood around the table and bowed our heads as Mr. Cotton said grace. “Dear Lord, bless this here food, bless our family and friends. Thank you, Lord, for all the many blessings you give to us and continue to give to us. And we thank you, Lord, for what you don’t see fit to give to us, ’cause we don’t need it. Hep us to know right from wrong. We ask all this in Jesus’s name. Amen.”

After that Amen, a moment of silence fell over us.

Everyone sat down except Mr. Cotton. He leaned over and started carving the turkey and dishing it out to us. We filled our plates with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and butter-topped biscuits. It truly was like having Thanksgiving in September, except for one big emptiness: Nolay wasn’t there with us. We all ate until our mouths were tired and then tried to eat some more.

At the end of the meal, I asked Miss Melba if I could have
the wishbone. I told her, “I want to give it to Mr. Speed. He says that wishes can come true, so maybe if the two of us wish on something together, it will be that much stronger.”

Miss Melba replied, “That is a very sweet idea. Of course you can have it.”

Mama looked over and gave me one of her smiles that had lots of words in it.

Miss Melba’s September Thanksgiving dinner had been just the thing to lift me and Mama’s low spirits. It was the first time I had seen Mama smile and laugh since Nolay was arrested nearly a week ago.

Mama said, “Melba, that was just wonderful. Let me help you clean up.”

“Lori, you and Bones don’t need to stay and help. Y’all should get on home before it gets too dark, so you can take care of all the animals.”

“Thank you, I can’t tell you how much I have enjoyed this.”

On the drive home me and Mama actually talked about things other than jail, money, and lawyers. It felt good to have her back.

Thursday me and Mama both stayed home. “Bones, I have gotten so behind in some of my gardening I need to stay home today,” she said.

All morning the two of us worked in the garden weeding and getting everything back into shape. After noon dinner, I asked, “Mama, can I go down and see how Mr. Speed’s doing?”

“Of course, you’ve been so much help to me this morning.”

When I arrived at the Last Chance, I went over and sat down beside Mr. Speed on the bench. “Howdy, Mr. Speed. I sure do miss my daddy. I hope we can get him back home soon.”

He bobbed his head up and down. “Shine in the dirt. At the knuckle. In the dirt.”

I guess the pages in his mind were stuck on knuckles again today.

“Mr. Speed, remember when you told me that if you wish hard enough for something that a miracle might happen?”

“Miracles, miracles happen.”

“Well, I want to tell you, I think they are starting to happen. I think they surely are. And Mr. Speed, I have a surprise for you. I’m still working on it, but when it’s finished I’ll bring it down to you.”

Half of Mr. Speed’s face moved into a lopsided smile. “Surprise.”

“Mr. Speed, you want an RC?”

Mr. Speed nodded.

When I went inside to get our RCs, Mr. Ball handed me a carton of Lucky Strikes. “Bones, let your Mama know I did something so foolish, I overordered on cigarettes. Not many people smoke Luckies, so if I don’t sell them, they’ll just go stale on the shelf. You give her these, all right?”

“Yes, sir, I will. And thank you very much, Mr. Ball.”

I went out and sat down next to Mr. Speed. As we looked out at the Indian River, a long line of brown pelicans flew gracefully over the top of the water.

“Look at that, Mr. Speed. I think they are mighty beautiful birds. I know some fishermen don’t like them because they think they’re fish thieves. But I don’t think that. Do you?”

“Not thieves, just smart. Smart birds. The brown ones live here, but the white ones don’t. Just come to visit when it’s warm. They can herd fish onto shore, just like cows. Like cows.”

“The white pelican can herd fish like a cowboy herds cattle?”

“Circle around the fish school and herd them in. Smart birds. Smart.”

“My goodness, I have never seen that, but I hope I will get to someday.”

The two of us sat together for a while longer, just enjoying each other’s silence. After we finished our colas, I said, “I best be getting home. I’ll be stopping by again real soon.”

“Real soon.”

On my walk back home, I saw Blue and Jackson standing by the railroad tracks. Jackson stepped forward and handed me a paper bag. “Tell your mama we done grown too many mustard greens.”

Blue kept his eyes averted. Jackson touched his frayed straw hat and looked directly at me. His black eyes were clear and kind.

“You give our regards to Mista Nolay.” He spoke as if Nolay were still at home or just out on a fishing trip.

When I got home, Mama was up and looked a little refreshed. I placed the carton of cigarettes and the bag on the table. When she opened the carton, a fifty-dollar bill slid from
between the packs. And at the bottom of that bag of mustard greens, rolled into a little tube and wrapped with a rubber band, was thirty dollars.

It took just five days for Mama’s pickle jar to fill up with three hundred dollars’ worth of miracles, and Nolay’s freedom. Friday morning Mama woke me and said, “Hurry up. Never mind any chores today, just get all the animals fed and eat some breakfast. We’re going to get your daddy.”

To me that sounded like a grand thing to do for the day.

Mama put the top down on the Champion, tied a bright green scarf around her hair, placed her pickle jar full of miracles on the front seat, and started driving us to the Titusville Courthouse. When we reached town, she drove straight past the Melbourne City Bank. I turned to her and said, “Mama, aren’t you going to go to the bank and cash all that money in?”

Mama looked over at me with the same little twinkle in her eyes that I had seen in Nolay’s and said, “No, I don’t think so.”

At the courthouse, Mama walked into that cold gray building with her head held high. When the officer at the front desk saw us, he put his head down real quick. Mama walked over and set her pickle jar full of dollars, quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies right in front of that officer. He looked back and forth from the jar to Mama. In her sweetest Southern drawl, Mama said, “If you would be so kind, sir, as to count out the three hundred dollars for my husband’s bail. I will just take a seat over there and wait for you.”

Me and Mama went and sat on a small wooden bench
across from the desk. We watched as the officer slowly wrapped both his hands around the jar as though it were going to jump up and run away. He spilled out the miracles and began stacking them in assorted piles. He finally looked in our direction and said, “Yes, ma’am, there is the correct amount of money here. I will go get your husband.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I said to Mama, “Don’t you think that was sort of mean, to make him count out all that money?”

Mama smiled. “Absolutely not. He has never been very polite or cordial to me. What goes around comes around. You remember that, Bones.”

Thinkin’ about watching that man sort through all those coins and crumpled-up dollars, I replied, “Yes, ma’am, I sure will remember that.”

About a half hour later, the elevator doors magically slid open and Nolay stepped out.

We walked out of that building as quickly as we could. Nolay slid into the driver’s side of the Champion. I curled up on the seat between my parents. The Champion purred along the hot pavement, Florida’s warm air playfully licking at our faces. Nolay took in a deep breath, shook his headful of shaggy black curls, and said, “Smell that sweet air. That was about the longest eight days I have ever spent in my life.”

His blue eyes twinkled as he looked back and forth from me to Mama. “Honey Girl, how did you come up with all that money? Y’all didn’t rob a bank or anything, did ya?”

Mama laid her arm across my shoulder and gently twirled a strand of my hair between her fingers. I could feel the softness
of her eyes resting on me. “No, Nolay, we didn’t rob a bank. It was just a miracle, just a plain old miracle.”

Over the weekend Nolay was busy going on some of his business trips. I began to notice how things appeared around the house and just as quickly disappeared. Although we still didn’t have electricity, he carted home radios, toasters, and cases of lightbulbs. There were sets of tires, fishing rods, guns, and car batteries. Boxes, crates, and barrels, they all came and they went.

He also visited the swamps to check on a little something out there.

On Sunday he showed up with a washing machine sitting in the back of his truck and covered by an old blanket. I walked over to have a closer look and heard Mama question him. “Where did you get something like that and what are you going to do with it? Did you steal this?”

“Honey Girl, I keep tellin’ you that some people got more stuff than they know what to do with. I’m just moving some things around. It just ain’t right for things like this to set around idle. Ain’t doin’ any harm.”

“That’s what you said about running those Yankee men off with a gun, and look where that got us.”

“Ain’t the same. Don’t you fret about it, Honey Girl. If I end up going to trial over all this, we got to have money for a lawyer. I’m taking care of it, that’s all.”

“Nolay, have you ever thought about getting a steady job?”

“You don’t think net fishin’ is a steady job? What other sort of job? Working for seventy-five cents an hour? That’s a waste of time. I’m doing just fine.”

The three of us were standing out in the yard by Nolay’s truck, when none other than Sheriff LeRoy pulled into our yard. Nolay walked over to the car and said, “LeRoy, what brings you out here on a Sunday?”

The sheriff sat in his car and glanced at the blanket-covered object in the back of Nolay’s truck but didn’t say a word about it. “Sorry about the intrusion on a Sunday. Just wanted to stop by and remind you not to be wandering off. You stick close to home. And stay clear of them Reemses. I got some po-lease work to do. I got me some ideas. I’ll be back in touch with you soon as I learn something more. And Nolay, don’t go doing anything foolish or you’ll end up back in jail.”

“I ain’t gonna do nothing foolish.”

Sheriff LeRoy looked in my and Mama’s direction, politely nodded his huge head, started up his car, and drove off.

I wasn’t worried so much about Nolay doing something foolish. It was Sheriff LeRoy’s ideas and his po-lease work that concerned me.

Monday morning I woke up to Mama’s soft voice. “Rise and shine, Bones, it’s the first day of school.”

Mama dropped me off along the county road to wait for the bus. By the time I got on board, it was half full of freshly scrubbed kids smelling like Ivory soap. Little Man had our usual seat saved. Skeeter Reems looked like an upside-down toad sprawled out in the backseat, and next to him, looking like a frog, was his younger brother, Smokey. I looked around and noticed that the seat where Martha and Ruthie usually sat was empty. “I wonder where Martha and Ruthie are?” I said.

“Miss Alvie must need ’em more than they need school.”

“I wish my mama felt the same way.”

“Now, looky, Bones, don’t you go scrappin’ for trouble. Especially with them Barracuda Boys.”

“I ain’t gonna look for trouble.”

“Well, you know things are gonna get said, you just walk away from it. You hear? Now, everything is gonna be all right
with Mr. Nolay. Just like my mama says, it’s in the hands of the Lord.”